


Werewolf Transformation

by BowTy_TheWritingPupper



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BowTy_TheWritingPupper/pseuds/BowTy_TheWritingPupper
Summary: It’s just as the title says it is: a werewolf transformation.
Kudos: 22





	Werewolf Transformation

It always starts as an itch. Just a small bout of discomfort in my stomach is all I need to understand that it's about to start. You could compare it to having stomach cramp from hunger, or a bit of indigestion after a particularly heavy meal, but that would not be completely accurate. The feeling of something wrong was more than just some bad food in my stomach. The feeling spread, traveled. This was a better indication of the start of something terrible than looking at the moon, which I had no doubt sat full in the sky. The forest around me, so filled with life moments ago, stood quiet. They could tell the beast was coming, too.

The heat came next. It was as if the mild discomfort from before turned into an aggressive virus that my body desperately tried to expel. While my skin begins to heat up, the blood in my veins pumps slower than usual. The thick clotting is palpable in every part of my body. In an attempt to correct the slow flow, my heart works harder, faster to get things back to normal. It's not going to go back to normal for a while, though. I know from the painful experiences of the past. 

Sweat attempts to cool down my scorching skin but to no avail. The heat that radiates off me warms the sweat up, creating a disgusting film of slime that only aids in my discomfort. There’s no use in wiping it off. My condition gets worse as the real pain begins.

Feeling and noise occur simultaneously. It's my jaw. My jaw is always first in this persistent transformation. My bottom jaw is ripped violently to the left as the muscles and bones that make it up spasm in a familiar yet forceful dance. Through all these times, I’m still astonished at the fact that the lower half of my mouth never completely falls off. Instead, searing pain fills my face as my bottom teeth fall out to make way for sharper, more canine teeth. The teeth of a true predator. My top jaw is quick to follow the bottom’s lead as the same occurs up there. Tears obscure the sight of thick blood and discarded teeth on the ground as my eyes start to change. In the movies and books, they always talk about the way the color changes, but they skip over the other effects that take place. The way to nighttime forest becomes so much clearer. The painful widening of the retinas that make such spectacular vision possible. To me, those details are far more interesting than the simple coloration of someone’s eyes.

My claws begin to take shape moments after my jaw starts to change. Thick, blackened claws meant for nothing but destruction rapidly protrude from where stubby- human- nails once were. The pain in my nails far trumps the feeling of my palms and feet thickening into animalistic pads that were much more suited to traverse the rough terrain of the forest floor.

From that point on, everything seems to happen at all once. The original pain in my stomach- the pain that started this all- intensifies tenfold, but in every organ in my body. All my intestines feel like they’re twisting and pulling at themselves in an attempt to escape from the prison of my body. I want to vomit, but a shout of agony is the only thing that escapes my mouth. The blood coursing through my veins feels like it was replaced with full-sized tacks without my knowledge.

My bones themselves seem to want to escape the immense pain my body undergoes, but they only add to it in excruciating ways. My spine was the worst of them all. All the way down my back, it pushed violently against the skin nearest it. A beastly whine leaked from my freshly-formed muzzle. A deep growl quickly chased all signs of vulnerability away. Despite the focus of pain in my spine, the rest of my body had stretched and grown as well. Tears cleared, I could see that I was much higher off the ground than when I started this endeavor.

The unpleasant warmth that I started off with is replaced with the type of warmth sought out after too long in the rain. My fur. Amongst all of the breaking bones and writhing veins, the growth of my fur seemed almost like an afterthought despite developing at roughly the same time as everything else. It’s a nice change of pace after so much hardship on my body.

When it’s all done, I don’t lose my mind to the beast as many fairy tales like to describe it. Instead, my thoughts are… “altered”, for a lack of a better word. I am still in complete control of my actions, but some things are just much more appealing in this form. I won’t go into detail about those activities, but I will say that the fear of werewolves and their bloodlust is not unfounded.

**Author's Note:**

> I love werewolves, so I'm trying to improve on writing the transformations. If you like it, please check out TybersTales on Tumblr, BowTyTheWriter on Twitter, or any of my other works on this site. I hope you all enjoy. Feedback welcomed! (Also beta reader if anyone is interested)


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